Grantaire's musings
by Bam it's Rachel
Summary: It is what I believe Grantaire was thinking before he died. And it is also what I think his beliefs were. Summary is really bad. One shot and rated T to be safe. No flames


Author's note: Hello, the reason I wrote this one shot is because a) I used Grantaire as an inspiration in my English exam as a person who could off handled life and bad situations differently rather than drinking.

B is a much more depressing reason. Just over a month one of my closest friends, Alex died. So I wanted to write something in a way to remember him. He was the person I came to for wisdom as he basically knew the answer to everything. He was a charismatic and a charming know it all. He was like a brother from another mother. And I know that is cheesy but he was the closest thing to an older brother. I will always remember the weekends when we were the only boarders in our year and played on the Wii for hours and ate ice cream. You were the brightest colour in the tapestry of my life. If fate took a different path you would be here telling me I'm a wet wipe and need to get a grip. But it is only if's and only. So thank you for being there.

Sorry for everyone who read that and how irrelevant it is but he was the person to inspire me to write and to be who I am.

Disclaimer: I am not called Victor or a man from the 1900s

The bottom of the wine bottle. That's where I live. That is where I try to find all my hopes. But all my hopes have been tainted with that bitter cynicism. All my dreams have been crushed by the horror of the world. I have seen too much to have hope in humanity. Ha humanity, the falsest of all lies. The most wicked of all truths. The evilest of realities. Once I may have woken up and believed that I could survive this saddened world and remain with a little dignity and cheer. But I had woken up and smelt the roses. This is a world where dog eats dog. Where if you want something you have to wade through blood to get a glimpse of it. The higher you rise the harder you fall. The harder the fall, the more you lose. The higher you rise, the more you gain. It is the way of the world. And it will always be this way.

If I wanted to go through skipping in a daze of happiness, believing that you can make gold out of rubbish and that anyone can change. I might as well be blind and deaf. Because that is what you are. Sure I can see the goodness in humans but I've seen so much evil and suffering that the good has been cancelled out, erased from my brain. To me life is only the middle between birth and death. The interval in a way. Does anything we do in these mere years have any great importance? Or are we all wasting time? Are we just rushing in the tornado of chaos that causes our lives to speed past us? Or do we have something to do on this Earth? Something with meaning? If we are put on this Earth for a reason, then why is there so much pain? Why do people suffer? The philosophical counterargument for this is that without pain and suffering we cannot see the good and justice. That we would all take it for granted and not learn to act on compassion, love, hope and kindness. But then the fall of this argument is why we should need to see this suffering of poverty, crime and injustice to act upon these traits. Why should the innocent be punished for the damned?

People think I don't care. That I want to waste away all in my life. I don't but the pain of reality is so heavy on my shoulder that I feel like Atlas with the weight of the world on his shoulder. Alcohol is the only way to block the pain. People pity me. Well I pity them. They go around in that blur of innocent ignorance almost like naïve child. They do not understand the cost of their actions. They do not know that if they saw how the world really was they would curl up into a ball and cry for their mothers. That is why I feel sorry for them. I would prefer to be a drunken cynic than an ignorant fool. The only pain I feel by being a cynic is that people find it hard to understand that I see the glass half empty. If they saw how I saw things. They may be able to understand. But they all believe in turning a cheek at my drunken slurs. My words of how I see the world are passed as drunken ramblings, best to be ignored.

When I joined this group I joined as I believed in the man who tried to take the weight of suffering and lift the oppressed high. I didn't believe in the cause. I always knew it was going to fail. The people wouldn't rise. The gamins who had wives and daughters. Mothers and fathers to support. They would end up pushing them further in to the clutches of poverty and destitution. Younger ones wouldn't risk it as they have learned to do anything to survive. That means to avoid these situations, even if they had something to gain. They also have something to lose. In a way I respect the poor more. They may not be educated. But what is the point when you can be the smartest man but not know the harsh reality. The poor know to weigh the cons before pros. And to see if the there is more worth than there is loss.

So now after I've just seen those people who I could call friends fall just because they fought in what they be right. To give everyone basic rights and a chance to escape they're wretched lives. I felt the wash of remorse flow over me like a wave. I am chocking on the water, drowning as I have no air left in my lungs. There is only one thing I would like to do. As I got up from the floor and walked over I asked the man I admired. In front of all the national guard who made it up the broken stairs. "Do you permit it for me to die beside you?" He nodded as he stood in front of window where he saw world reborn. I stood beside him as he raised the red flag, the image of his ideals and of the revolution. And with that the triggers were pulled and I fell at the great Enjolras's feet.

Author's note: So yeah… depressing. I am writing here that I have tried to do this in the way Hugo portrayed the characters. So when Grantaire says the man he admired it is in a plutonic way and not an amorous one. As it says in the book that Grantaire did admire Enjolras I believe it was in how people admire a hero. I do not believe that he did have feelings for him. Also Enjolras is shown to not have much time for him in the book as he was a pessimist and drunk away the pain instead of dealing with it.

And when Grantaire asked to die beside him, it was him asking for forgiveness and saying that he had always believed in him.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Please review and again thanks xxx


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